Just Another Statistic
by DeamonFruba
Summary: Sara stared at the fresh wounds on her body and fought back the tears. She had gone from protecter to victim, individual to statistic. And there was no going back.
1. Chapter 1

**_Just Another Statistic_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. Even Russell is based off of a real person although he is not a deranged rapist. He's just a jerk. _**

**Chapter One, PartOne:An act of Desperation**

Sara Sidle stared at the white curtains hanging around her bed as she tried to block out the pain that was threatening to overcome her. The nurse was being as gentle as possible, she knew, but it still hurt. Her legs were propped up on the stirrups and her hospital gown blocked her eyes from what was happening but she knew all too well. She was being tested for anything that would or could point to a suspect. She was being handled like a piece of evidence.

"There," the nurse's grim face appeared above Sara's knees and she smiled as comfortingly as she could. "That should be enough for now. I'm done here but there is someone who would like to ask you a few questions."

Sara nodded silently as she put her legs back down on the bed and kept staring at the curtain. When it rippled she didn't need to look up to feel the eyes boring into her. She knew what was to come and she wasn't ready. She didn't want to have to answer the routine questions, even if they were supposed to help her. It wouldn't help. She couldn't forget.

"Sara," a quiet voice spoke her name reverently but it made Sara flinch inwardly. It was _him_. "Sara. Sara, honey, I am going to need you to look at me."

Sara kept staring straight at the curtain willing this all to be some kind of nightmare; willing the pain to just be an illusion. She didn't want this to be happening. She didn't want to face him.

"Sara. Sara, look at me."

Sara refused as she kept her eyes averted from the man sitting in the chair next to the bed. Why did they call him? Why not somebody else?

Sara felt a gentle finger trail down her arm and she shuddered. When the finger reached her hand she felt him entwine his fingers with hers gently. Her mind stuttered to a stop. He had never touched her before. She had always done the touching.

"Sara," she heard his voice plead. "Please look at me. Talk to me. Show me you know I'm here."

Sara didn't want to look but she opened her mouth and began to speak in a hoarse whisper.

She had been drinking after work, her mind replaying the case over and over. She kept seeing that girl. She knew she shouldn't be driving but needed to get home. Somehow she had made her way past the junk yard and was thinking about the first time that girl was raped. Then it had happened.

Her car jerked suddenly and she squealed to a stop. Without really thinking she whipped out her phone and sent Grissom a quick text message:

**'Come to the old field by the junkyard. I think someone's hurt. –Sidle'**

Then she shut the phone and unbuckled her seat belt. Jumping out of the car, she looked around to see what she had hit. She saw him standing there with a grim smile on his face.

"Remember me?" he'd asked with a gravelly voice. Sara had tried to scream, tried to run, but she was too drunk to do much of anything. He had pinned her against her car and slapped her hard across the face. Before she could catch her breath he began to rain down on her with fists and elbows. Just when she thought she was going to pass out he hoisted her up and threw her down on the ground.

"I told you you'd be sorry," he growled as he landed on top of her. He bit her neck and she let out a scream of anger, pain, and fear. He ripped off her scarf and threw it aside as he began to get rid of the coat. All the while he was yelling at her, telling her that she should have listened, she should have known that he would come back for her. Once her coat was off he took a knife out of his pocket and held it to her throat.

"Take off your shirt, baby. Take it off nice and slow for me. I want to see you do it one last time."

Sara was shaking. Her fingers were hardly able to hold the buttons but he was patient. He just sat on her legs, moving at times to grind his erection against her further. Finally she had her shirt unbuttoned and he growled with satisfaction as he lowered his mouth to her exposed flesh. His knife moved swiftly from her throat to remove her bra, cutting just above her breast as he did so.

Then he was ripping off her pants along with her shoes. He snarled in pleasure as he saw her black underwear. Sara tried to scream again but her voice had left her and she was too weak with fear to move her arms, let alone fight. All she could do was close her eyes and imagine that she was someplace else. The first thing that came to mind was home but it was cold and dark there so she moved her mind to the next place. A theme park. She made her way through the crowd until she reached the roller coaster. She paid the ticket man and sat gingerly in the seat. There was someone next to her and she leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed in contentment. He laced his fingers through hers and kissed the top of her head. She was about to look up when a sudden pain ripped through her body.

Sara screamed with all her leftover strength but it caught in her throat as HE rammed into her. Tears flooded her eyes as she looked at the sky above. If only she could be on that roller coaster. If only. If only.

"Come on, baby," the man said gruffly as he rode her. "Be a bad girl. You know you're loving this. You can't tell me that your bug man does this for you. He can't make you fear like this. He can't make you feel like this."

Sara shook her head in agony as he ripped through her. Every stroke brought a fresh agony to her body. "No," she rasped as he bit her breasts with a growl in the back of his throat. This can't be happening. She wanted to say it, to believe it. She wanted this to end. She wanted his face to go away. He was leering down at her with his dark eyes. Sara forced herself to look at him one last time. She wanted to remember every detail. She wanted to be able to see him in her mind's eye so she could rip him apart piece by piece and make him suffer this much. As she looked into his eyes though, there was something different. His face was flashing. Red, blue, red, blue. Suddenly his face contorted in anger. He swore and tore out of her. Zipping his pants he glared at her and brought the knife to her throat once again.

"I was going to leave you alive so you could live this night over and over again in your dreams but plans change, baby. Don't worry though. The last person who will be touching you is that bug man of yours. He'll run his latex-gloved hands over your body and wish that he were me. He'll wish that he could have been the one to be inside of you." Then he lifted the knife above his head and brought it down into her chest.

"I can't remember the rest," Sara whispered as she continued to stare at the cloth. "When I woke up I had needles sticking out of me and a nurse clucking her tongue and saying that I should still be asleep." She shook her head. "I can give you a name. It's Russell Dirango. He lives just a few miles from the strip and drives a blue Saturn."

No response came and Sara realized that he had taken his hand back. She looked confusedly in the direction of the chair wondering why he had left but she suddenly wished she hadn't.

Grissom was sitting there looking at her with anguish in his eyes. His hands were clamped together in his lap and she saw that the stuff that he would usually have in his hands was on the floor in a messy pile. She tried to tear her eyes away from the stormy blue ones that were staring at her with such intensity that it made her stomach squirm. He was so handsome. He looked so sad.

"Why are you staring at me, Gil?" Sara asked as she tried feebly to look away. "You're making me—" she was cut off when Grissom did the last thing that she ever would have expected. He had his arms around her and was pulling her close to him as he knelt by the bed. She felt dampness on her shoulder and nearly cried out in shock before realizing what was happening. The heart monitor went haywire as she pressed her face into his shoulder and let it all out. She knew that what had happened could never be erased but at least she was here: safe in the arms of the man that she loved.

**Chapter One, Part Two: Memory Lane is a Hell of a Drag**

Sara clutched her arms to her chest as she stood before the one-way mirror. She kept telling herself that the men behind the glass couldn't see her. She kept reminding herself that she was safe in the police office with Grissom and Nick standing on either side of her and Warrick, Greg and Catherine waiting outside.

"Now," Brass put a hand on Sara's shoulder. "I am going to call out their number and when you see the right one just write it on the piece of paper you got earlier." When Sara nodded he gave the men their directions. He called the first number and Sara clenched her fists. That wasn't him. The second one was called up and, although Sara thought he looked familiar, she shook her head. Three, four, and five were all strangers but when six was called…

Sara stared stonily at the man looking at the glass in front of him. It wasn't him. He wasn't there in the line-up. Sara shook her head and looked harder. That had to be him. Yes, she thought as she strained her eyes. That was him. Same hair. Same height. Same eyes and mouth. She slowly picked up the pencil.

Sara, Warrick, Nick, Catherine, and even Grissom made their way through the amusement park all chattering animatedly. It was the second summer of Sara's stay in Las Vegas and Nick and Warrick had practically dragged her and Grissom out of their homes and to a movie. They had both been silent and sulky through the duration of the movie—neither quite enjoyed a story about a guy wanting to be God—but once they had gotten out of the theater their moods began to lighten a little. By they time they were at the theme park every one was having fun.

After being in the park for about an hour Sara noticed Grissom eyeing the new roller coaster. She pointed it out to the others but they were all too interested in a guy shoving something down his throat to pay attention. Sara decided to be reckless. She grabbed Grissom's wrist and dragged him over to the long line, ignoring his protests the whole way. She dragged Grissom to the front of the line and smiled as charmingly as she could at the operator.

"Hi," she nearly purred. She tried not to notice that Grissom was gaping at her as she leaned on the counter. "My name's Sara and this is my friend Gil Grissom. We really have to be leaving soon so we wanted to ask if we could PLEASE get a ride on the next go-around?" she smiled charmingly up at the man. She had no idea how effective she was until the man just smiled, looked down her shirt, and nodded.

"Sure, baby. Whatever you want."

Sara giggled. "Thanks."

"My name's Russell, by the way."

Sara smiled again. "Nice to meet you Russell."

"Do you want to go out sometime?"

Sara scrunched her eyebrows together. She shot a glance at a gaping Grissom and then looked back at Russell with a smile back on her face. "I'll think about it, Russell."

The man just smiled as he pushed a button on the console and the coaster screeched to a halt behind Sara. Avoiding Grissom's eyes, Sara pulled him after her onto one of the seats. When they were under-way, however, she turned to meet his glower.

"What the heck were you doing back there, Sara?" Grissom asked sharply.

Sara shrugged. "Getting us a quick ride or two."

Grissom pursed his lips together tightly. "And why did you do that, exactly?"

Sara shot him an evil look. "Because you wanted to ride this thing. If I hadn't come you would be in line all day and then you would never have wanted to go home 'cause you'd have to wait in line AGAIN. I just got us an easy pass to about three rides on this hunk of metal."

Grissom only huffed and muttered something under his breath. They had reached the top of the hill by then and all other conversation was cut off as the roller coaster descended, leaving the two to try to ignore what was yet another argument. Once the ride was over Sara stood and made her way toward Russell and smiled one more time. This guy was not that bad looking. In fact, she thought as she reached the booth where he sat, he was what her friend would call a nice chunk of meat—Sara nearly laughed at repeating her friend's words in her mind and had then had to force down a wave of anger when she remembered that her friend had described Grissom with those very words a week ago.

"Russell," Sara said once the next ride had set off. "I would LOVE to go out with you." She ignored Grissom's choking behind her as the man smiled broadly and scribbled his name and number on a piece of paper.

He had really changed since then. He was no longer awkward and was even better looking. He and Sara had gone out for nearly two years and she had even brought him to some of the CSI get-togethers. He hadn't liked Grissom and had become more and more protective over the months. He asked her where she was and called her at all hours of the day. He complained constantly about her work hours. He took a job as a truck driver during that time and for a while Sara thought that his detachment was a sign that she should try to end things. Unfortunately, when she told him, he hadn't thought so. He threw things around and yelled at her but she had stuck with her decision.

At the end of nearly an hour of ranting, Russell had asked her the question that she could tell was always at the back of his mind. "Are you still stuck on that Bug man?" He spat as he glared in her eyes. "Are you still dreaming about him after a bad case? Are you still saying his name in your sleep?"

Sara hadn't answered, only stared at him in shock. He turned away from her in disgust and started to leave her apartment but as his hand was on the doorknob, he turned to her with an angry glare in his eye. "I'm not going to forget this, baby. You're going to regret this. I swear." And then he had turned and left her life.

Sara's fingers trembled as the threat ran through her mind making it nearly impossible to read the six. When the number was complete she handed it to Brass and turned quickly from the window and concentrated on breathing. She refused to cry. She hadn't cried since leaving the hospital and she refused to do it in front of Nick and Grissom. Her stomach screamed in protest as she began breathing heavily. It wasn't a bad wound but it was deep and it hurt. She'd been told that she would have a scar for the rest of her life.

"Sara," Brass looked at Sara with pity and she wanted to hit him for it. She hated that look. "Sara I am so sorry."

Sara only nodded as she concentrated on taking even breaths. Nick was looking at her with the same look in his eyes: Pity and a hint of caution. They were looking at her like any other victim. She wanted to heave right there but she bit her tongue and gripped the back of the chair tightly.

"Do you want to go home," Grissom asked softly from behind her. When Sara nodded weakly he put a hand on the small of her back and steered her out of the door.

Catherine was waiting on the other side. She held Sara's coat, earning her a weak smile of gratitude. She didn't hear what Catherine was saying about how Greg and Warrick had been called in and neither could take a day off so they had had to leave. Sara was only aware that she needed to get home. She needed to go home and feed her plants. She needed to go home and bury herself deep under the covers. She needed to go home and cry.

Grissom continued to lead Sara out of the building, all the while putting her coat on her gently. He was as silent as she was but when they reached his car he gave her shoulder a squeeze and opened the door for her. The drive to her house was silent and Grissom avoided looking at Sara. He hadn't been able to look into her eyes since he had let go of her in the hospital room. It had been Nick who told her what day it was and how many days she had been asleep—three long days. It had been Nick who cried openly when he first came into the room to see her sitting up and it had been Nick who fended off a desperate Greg. The only thing that Grissom did was stare into space while gently touching her hand or arm. Oddly enough it was Grissom that had been the most comforting. Sara didn't like being treated with caution and never had. She didn't like being treated like evidence.

Grissom pulled the car to a stop in front of Sara's apartment and looked at her face from the corner of his eye. "Are you going to be okay? Do you want to stay with the woman in the next apartment?"

Sara shook her head slowly as she reached for the door handle. "I'll be fine. She's in the Bahamas now."

"You sure you don't want to me to stay with you?"

"No. I'm fine."

Grissom nodded. Sara knew that he understood her reasons for not wanting to stay in the hospital but she could also see a hint of concern. She was about to open the door when Grissom spoke up.

"Sara," he whispered so softly that she could barely hear him. "Can I please stay with you? Can I sleep on your couch? Please?"

Sara looked at Grissom with weary eyes. "I told you I'm fine."

"But I'm not," he snapped. Sara looked at his tense face and then slowly nodded. "Fine."

Grissom's face softened as he pulled the keys out of the ignition. "Thank you."

Sara only nodded as she opened her car door and made her way to the door of her apartment. She pulled the spare key out from under the mattress? and unlocked the door. She stepped into the dark apartment and left the door ajar for Grissom. Then she all but ran for the bathroom.

**TBC**

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**_Okay. That is the end of Chapter one of this segment. I have the rest completed - it's just going through the grueling process of editing. But I want to thank sassysarasidle for her comments on this piece. Thanks a whole bunch, girl! _**

**_Love you all! And please review!_**

**_Greggo_**

**_"Please leave a contribution to the little box" - Labyrinth_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just Another Statistic**

**Disclaimers and Thank-Yous:**

Thank you so much for those that have reviewed both here and on my personal email! I really love hearing back from you guys! My Dad actually heard me being so happy when I realized that I got a bunch of hits and stuf and tried to get me to let him read. snort yeah right. Like I'm gonna let my Dad read this... Or any of my other work for that matter. Anywho, I just want to thank Kagura, sassysarasidle, and smacky30 again. You guys are great!

Again: CSI and none of its characters belong to me. The only character in this story that sort of belongs to me is Russell. But he's based off of a real person. Not a rapist but a jerk all the same.

**Chapter Two, Part One: Letting it sink in**

Sara leaned miserably over the toilet as tears slipped down her cheeks and into the basin. She was allowing it all to sink in. She had tried to block it out but now it was time to face the music. As she remembered more a fresh wave of nausea swept over her and she whimpered. This all had to be a dream. That was what she had told herself every moment since the morning she woke up. Now it was nearly midnight and she had to accept what had happened. She had to or else it would just get harder and harder. She had to let it out.

As another sob escaped her lips, she heard the front door close and she rested her cheek against the cold toilet. She reached her hand above her head to unlock the door. She knew he would come. When the doorknob began to turn Sara used the same hand to flush the toilet without even moving her head. She watched the contents of her stomach and her salty tears slip down the drain and felt Grissom kneel down behind her. She let the tears continue to flow as she felt his hands on her shoulders and heard his ragged breath in her ear.

"I'm so sorry," Grissom's voice brushed against Sara's ear. "I am so sorry, Sara. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry it took so long for me to get to you. I'm so sorry." His voice cracked and Sara turned her head upward a little as she felt a hot tear land on her exposed neck.

Sara saw the pain in his face and knew he meant what he said. Her eyes filled again with tears and she sagged backwards against his chest. The tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now and she felt dampness on her head where Grissom's tears were soaking her hair. They slid down to the floor, Grissom cradling her against his chest. They both fell asleep within minutes and both dreamed about the same thing: each other.

Sara and Grissom sat on the bleachers around the hockey rink taking notes. "This game is crazy," Sara said. "I don't like any sports but this tops the rest on my list of crazy."

Grissom smiled a rare smile. "I like baseball," he said.

Sara snorted. "Of course. All those statistics, you're sure to love it."

"It's a beautiful sport," Grissom urged.

"Since when are you interested in beauty?"

Grissom looked down at his notes. "Since I met you," he said before standing. "Come on. We'll sweep the rink from the goal-post to the middle line." He started walking and didn't notice Sara's mouth hanging open.

Sara sat on the side of the curb outside the crime lab with her hand cradled against her chest and paramedics swarming around her. Grissom noticed her and knelt in front of her. "Are you okay?"

Sara looked up, startled. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Grissom grabbed her hand and bit his lip. "Honey, this doesn't look good." He yelled over his shoulder at one of the paramedics, "Can I get a doctor over here? She needs stitches."

It only occurred to them later what he had said. Such a simple word and yet it was so meaningful.

"I read something about that in the Entomology text book that Grissom gave me for Christmas last year," Sara said offhandedly to Nick and Hodges.

"Funny," Nick smiled. "I didn't get anything from Grissom for Christmas, did you, Hodges?"

Hodges shook his head with a smirk. "Nope. Me neither."

Sara glared at the two smiling men. "Shut up."

Sara looked through the glass at Grissom sitting like a broken man at the table. Her mind was swirling with disbelief. What had he meant? Surely he hadn't meant her when he spoke about choosing his job over a woman he loved…had he?

Grissom looked helplessly through the glass wall at Sara and that crazy man with the plaster pressed to Sara's throat. He wanted to get in there but where was that stupid janitor? "Let her go!" he yelled through the glass but one look into the man's eyes told him that he was going to rape Sara. "Open the door!" he shouted again as he pounded on the glass. The janitor had appeared at his shoulder and he hastily slipped the key into the lock and turned it. A security guard quickly detained the man and Sara was free. Grissom wanted to pull her into his arms then and there but she looked so scared and fragile…

"Do you want to sleep with me?"

"You know gray hair is very attractive on a man…"

"Some people just aren't meant to be together."

"I don't know what to do about this."

"I do. But by the time you figure it out it really might be too late."

Sara opened a bleary eye and groaned. She stuffed her face back into her pillow and willed time to jump back a couple hours so that she could dream again. She wanted to remember Grissom's hints and her advances. She wanted to picture his bare chest glistening with sweat and see his intense blue eyes looking into hers. That's when she heard the music. She smiled as she recognized the CD that Grissom had gotten her years ago. It was his favorite, he had said, and it soon became hers. There was also a faint smell… Was that coffee?

Sara blinked in surprise. Why could she smell coffee? Why… Suddenly a wave of memory flooded her and she had to dash to the bathroom to empty what little was left in her stomach. When she had rinsed her mouth out she stripped and turned the shower water on hot. She took as long a shower as the supply of hot water would allow her and, more from routine than anything, she rubbed her lotion on her body before getting dressed in sweats and a large T-shirt that she had gotten from Nick a few months back. Then, she took a deep breath and made her way into the kitchen.

**Chapter Two, Part Two: Breakfast and a Shower...**

Grissom stood in Sara's kitchen as he juggled cooking toast, eggs, pancakes, and coffee. He had woken up only an hour or two after falling asleep in the bathroom floor and carried Sara to her bed. Afterwards he had only gotten about two hours of restless sleep on the couch and had started cooking at six in the morning. When Sara walked into the warm kitchen Grissom smiled awkwardly.

"Morning," he said as he flipped a pancake in the skillet and pushed a piece of toast into the toaster.

Sara mumbled something incoherent as she ran a hand through her damp hair. "You're still here?"

Grissom nodded as he poured a cup of coffee. "You don't think I'd leave you, do you?"

Sara didn't respond as she grasped the cup in his hand and cautiously sipped the hot liquid. She was acutely aware of her red face still slightly swollen from crying. She looked around the kitchen in some amusement as she noted the mess of pancake mix and eggshells.

"How long have you been up?" she asked quietly. It was unnerving to think that Grissom had been the only one up in her house. What had he done? Had he looked through her books? Had he looked scrupulously at each of the pictures on the walls? Or had he noticed that there were still moving boxes all over the place?

Grissom shrugged as he turned off the stove and scraped some scrambled eggs onto a plate next to a perfectly cooked pancake. "A few hours. I couldn't sleep so I went to the store to get some breakfast materials. And I stopped by my place to get some clothes." He put the plate in front of her. The smell made her mouth water. "Eat."

Sara greedily picked up the fork that Grissom had handed her and wolfed down the eggs and pancakes. She couldn't remember the last time she had had a hot breakfast. Probably a few years unless she counted McDonald's or something. When she had finished gulping down the last of her coffee and had eaten the last of the eggs she looked up at Grissom.

"Thank you, Grissom," she whispered softly. "You really didn't have to do all this."

"But I wanted to, Sara," he said in an equally low voice. His eyes traveled around the room, looking at anything and everything but her. "I couldn't leave you here alone after…after what happened. I just couldn't do that."

Sara nodded slowly as her fingers played with the fork still on her plate. "I understand. I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that you did all of this. I mean, the breakfast, the ride home, and the comfort. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been here last night."

Grissom's hand grasped hers and his eyes finally rested on her face. Sara's breath caught in her throat as he stared at her, eye to eye, for the first time in as long as she could remember. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but what was really only about a minute, Sara stood from her chair and took her hands out of Grissom's.

"I'm going to go take another shower," she said in a hoarse voice. Her stomach was rolling again as she placed the dishes in the sink. "I'll be out to clean the kitchen in a little bit."

Grissom only watched her back as she retreated again into the bathroom. He only looked away when the door closed behind her—and he heard the click of the lock. Sighing, he put his head in his hands and started to think.

Sara leaned against her bathroom door and took deep breaths. She couldn't stop herself from locking the door behind her. She didn't want to have to stand alone in a small space if there was no sense of security. She didn't want to have to imagine him barging into the door of the bathroom to finish what he started. Her hand slipped into the medicine cabinet and she pulled out the gun that rested on the shelf. She had left it in here last time she cleaned it and had forgotten to remove it. Now it was a source of comfort as she checked for bullets and set it on the top of the toilet where she could easily reach it from the shower.

With her mind slightly at ease, Sara stripped off her pants and her shirt. She looked reluctantly in the mirrors as she felt the cut above her breast. Her body was bruised all over and Sara flinched as she touched each one in turn. 'Why did this have to happen?' She wondered. 'Why, after I spent all my life trying to protect people from getting hurt, did this have to happen to me? I have gone from protector to victim in just a few nights. I got away with no broken bones, no severe wounds, but I feel broken.' She sighed as she opened a small bottle of pain killers and swallowed one without water. She needed to stop brooding. It was doing her no good and if she dwelt on it too much in these first few days then she would never get over it. She needed to move on.

Sara turned the hot water on and listened to the roar as it hit the bathtub floor. When steam began to rise slowly, almost lazily from behind the drawn curtain, Sara stepped in and gasped as the hot water struck her back. She closed her eyes in something that resembled contentment as she leaned into the spray. It hit her face and her shoulders, relaxing the muscles in her back like only a hot shower could. Sara's fingers trailed a line of soap over her body as she reveled in the hot water and left the world.

Sara rubbed herself down with soap and watched the suds swirl down the drain. Then she grabbed her shampoo and inhaled the sweet scent of coconut. Squeezing it out on her hand she swiftly ran her fingers through her hair and rinsed. Out of habit she grabbed a lemon out of the small bag on the side of the tub and squeezed the juice over her arms, careful not to get it too close to any of her bruises.

Sighing as the water began to cool, Sara turned off the water and reached out of the shower to grab a towel. Her hand felt for the fabric and she tugged. She screamed as hands grabbed her arm and a cold voice resonated through her ears in a sneer.

"Hello, Sara."

TBC

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**Well, that's it. Thanks again for reading! Just a warning... the next one gets intense:-) **

**Love you all!**

**Greggo**

**"Please leave a contribution in the little box" - Labyrinth**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay. Here is the final chapter. Hope you guys enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own this stuff. Just the concept and the rapist.**

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**Chapter Three Part One**

Russell dragged Sara out of the bathroom as she struggled to get out of his arms. _Where are you, Grissom?_ She thought as her eyes swept the kitchen. She screamed again as she saw the note resting on the table.

**Sara,**

**I went out to get some milk. I ran out. Sorry. I'll be back soon. I think I'll grab a movie too. You know my cell number if you need me.**

**Grissom**

Russell pushed her sharply into the kitchen, a glower on his face. "So," he snarled as he shoved her again, "you ran straight to your bug man, huh? You really are a whore." He back handed her across her face and sent her sprawling. Sara cried out in pain as she swept her eyes around the kitchen, trying to locate where she had put the steak knives or something else to use but she couldn't get her bearings. Suddenly a boot connected with her face and she felt a scream ripped from her lungs.

"Don't look away from me you whore," he spat as he leaned down and grabbed her wet hair. "I want you to suffer for what you did to me." He violently shook her head and Sara gasped in pain as she tried to hit him in the face, the groin. Anywhere that would give her even a momentary advantage. She was too slow though. She felt blood oozing from her nose and from her mouth and she struggled not to swallow.

Russell shook her head again as his free hand began to dig into Sara. He moaned in pleasure as she bit and scratched as much as she could but every time she did he absent-mindedly slammed her head back against the refrigerator behind her. "Come on baby. You can't tell me that he was any better than I was." He cocked his head at her and smiled maliciously. He lowered his head and bit Sara on the breast. He moaned in gratitude and then winked at Sara. "Wait here, baby. I want to do this exactly as I've wanted to."

To Sara's utter surprise, Russell got up and walked across the kitchen to the back of the apartment. Sara quickly gathered herself and rolled on her stomach. She had an intense urge to vomit but knew that it would slow her down so she held it down. She crawled quickly across the floor, not trusting her legs enough to stand, and looked at the front door. There was a screwdriver wedged into it and she knew that it would take precious minutes to get it out. Then she turned to the bathroom and bit her lip as she saw the mangled doorknob. Finally she turned to her bedroom. It was not the most secure place but it would do. And she could hide out there until Grissom came back. _Or until Russell uses your gun to shoot the doorknob off and comes to finish the job._ A nasty voice inside her head sneered but Sara ignored it. She could get in there and formulate some sort of plan. Quickly, Sara scuttled to the door of her room and opened it, half surprised when it opened. She swiftly dived in and quietly shut the door behind her, locking it.

Taking a deep breath and leaning against the door to her room, Sara sighed deeply and allowed her body to shake. She leaned over and gagged on the bile that had been in her throat since she had felt his ruddy hands on her. This couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. Not again.

"Sara!" Russell's voice called her name in a tone that made Sara shiver even more. "Oh, Sara! I've got the rope and now we can have a little bit of fun together."

Sara bit the inside of her lip to prevent herself from heaving as her eyes scanned the room for something, anything. Her gun was in the bathroom and she didn't have a phone in here. Her cell phone was… Where was it? Her heart started hammering as her mind raced. It had been inside her pocket after she and Grissom had left the station. She had left it in her car the first time that… that Russell had hurt her and the doctor gave it to her when they were done with the tests. So where had she put it when she got home? Had she slept with it in her pocket? Or had Grissom taken it out?

"Sara," Russell's taunting voice was coming through the door and Sara's heart nearly stopped. "Sara, there is no way out. You're trapped in there. You can't escape. I have a gun and I can easily blow through the door but I would prefer you to open the door so you don't have to risk getting hit. Come on honey. I have the rope. It may hurt a little but in the good way. Come on. You know you want me."

Sara bit her lip as tears slid down her cheeks. She looked around the room desperately, trying to find something to use against him. And then her eyes landed on the small chest under her dresser. She knew what she would do. Slowly, she slid across the room to the closet and silently opened it. She reached up and pulled a robe off of the hanger and gently put it on, wincing as the fabric brushed her fresh wounds. Then she scooted the few feet over to where her mother's ivory-handled pistol rested in its delicate oak box.

**Chapter Three Part Two**

Sara could hear Russell behind the door trying to coax her out, knowing that she had only a few moments before he would resort to shooting the lock off the door. Her fingers rested on the latch of the box as she struggled internally. She hadn't opened it herself in so long. Her fingers shook as she slipped her fingernail under the clip and nudged it open gently. Her eyes rested on the small pistol inside and suddenly she felt safe again. She stroked the delicate ivory flowers and her mind flooded with the memory of the day that her mother had shown it to her.

_"Sara Ann Sidle!" a voice echoed through the house as Sara slipped further under the bed in an attempt to hide herself. She was shaking and she had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out loud. "Sara Ann, if you don't come out here this instant I am going to make you sorry you were ever born!"_

_Sara shivered violently as she pulled the winter quilt around her and tried not to scream. She hadn't meant to drink so much. She hadn't even known what it was until her head had begun to spin and she began to feel woozy. Only then did she realize her terrible mistake. She had drunk the last of Daddy's beer._

_Sara heard her mother's voice soothe her father's violent mood. "Honey, maybe she went out for a bike ride. Why don't you go to the bar for a couple hours and come back when she is home. Then I am sure she will talk to you."_

_Sara's father's black mood was clear in his voice as he growled a string of profanities. "That little brat is getting on the edge of my last nerve. If she is not home when I get back her backside will be bloodied and bruised. I mean it. I want her sitting in the kitchen and waiting for me with my beer when I return or else." And then, to Sara's intense relief, the front door swung shut loudly and the engine of her father's pick-up truck roared to life. Only when she could no longer hear the loud truck did Sara allow herself to cry._

_Slipping out from under the bed, she slowly walked to the open doorway and met her mother's open arms. "Mommy," she cried as she flung her small arms around her mother's neck. "Mommy, I am sorry. I didn't mean to drink it. I thought it was root beer. Daddy said that he had bought me some and I thought that that was it." She pressed her face into her mother's ample chest as she shook with tears. "I didn't mean to make Daddy so mad."_

_"Shh, baby. I know it was an accident." Sara's mother kissed her daughter's head and stroked her hair. "I know that you didn't mean it."_

_Sara sniffled as she pressed herself further into her mother's comforting embrace. "Is Daddy going to hurt me?"_

_Sara could feel her mother stiffen. "No, honey. Daddy's not going to hurt you this time. I promise. He'll calm down at the bar. You'll see."_

_Sara's young mind could hear the lie in her mother's voice and she knew very well what that meant. She gently pried her arms off of her mother's neck and pulled away. "Why is Daddy like this, Mom? Why does he get so angry?"_

_A sigh ran through Mrs. Sidle's body as she looked at her young daughter. Sometimes she wished she wasn't so observant. "You know why. The beer makes him forget who he is."_

_Sara shook her head. "No, mom. I mean why does he get so angry. Does he hate me? Should I try something different?" her face fell. "Would he still get so angry if I was a boy?"_

_"No, baby. No, he's just not a very happy person. It has nothing to do with you. Don't let yourself think that."_

_"But what if he comes home still angry? What if this time the beer makes him forget who he is for too long and hurt you again?" A little eight-year-old finger trailed lightly down a scar on her mother's face from a "falling" lamp that her daddy had "accidentally" dropped._

_"I won't let him hurt me again. And he won't hurt you. I promise."_

_Sara shook her head. "But he is so big, Mommy. And you and I are little."_

_Sara's mother racked her brain for an answer. Finally she realized what she had to do. Grabbing her daughter's hand she led her across the hall into the room that she had shared with her husband for ten long years. Releasing her daughter, she bent down on the floor and reached under the bed where the little oak box that her brother had given to her before he had died. Pulling it out onto her lap, she slipped her nail under the latch and popped it open. Sara's eyes widened._

_Inside was a delicate pistol with an ivory handle. Flowers and birds were carved into it and the polished surface glistened in the sunlight trailing through the window. Pulling the gun out, Sara's mother looked at her beautiful daughter. "This was my great-great grandfather's gun. He fought to keep his land and family safe from the Indians that fought to take it away. He gave it to his son and it was passed from child to child until my brother gave it to me. I promise you, Sara: if your father ever tries to hurt us ever again I will do what my great-great grandfather did. I will protect us with whatever means necessary. I promise."_

_Sara nodded. She knew what her mother was going to do._

_That night, when Sara's father came home, Sara was sitting on the little stool in the kitchen with a box of beer in her hands bought with her own money. When he staggered into the kitchen and his eyes rested on her, she smiled and held up the beer. "Here, Daddy! I bought you some special beer!"_

_The man looked at his daughter through glazed eyes and he failed to notice his wife standing protectively behind the little girl, hands behind her back. "What do you mean?" he slurred. "Do you expect me to accept that crap over my good stuff?"_

_Sara's face fell. "But, Daddy, I got the bestest stuff that they had. I bought it with my birthday money from Grammy."_

_"Bull!" He shouted, making Sara jump in fright. "You are just like your slut of a mother! You lie and steal my stuff and when you think you're going to get in trouble you lie again and try to hide the truth from me! I won't take it any more. You and that whore of a mother are going to pay. You know what I found out tonight at the bar?" He bent down so that his face was only a few inches from Sara's frightened one. "I found out that your mother is sleeping with your kindergarten teacher. Do you know what that means? It means that she is letting the guy stick his dick into what is mine!"_

_Sara frowned as she looked up at her mother. "Mommy?"_

_The woman glowered at her husband. "You bastard." She gritted through her teeth. "You dirty bastard. Don't you feed my daughter such lies. Don't frame me for what you are doing with every teenage girl in this town. I know about Alice and Mary. They're only sixteen, for Heaven's sake. And I know that there are more. Don't you dare tell this little girl that I am performing your crimes! I won't allow you to lie to our little girl!"_

_The drunken man looked up at his wife with a smirk on his face. "You might actually have some brains after all." Suddenly his hand lifted and he struck Sara so hard against the face that she was sent sprawling along with the beer in her lap. He rose to his full height as he began to shoot accusations at his wife, unaware that she was holding a loaded gun behind her back. Only when he had the gun pointed right between his eyes did what was happening really hit him. "What are you doing?"_

_"I am going to save my daughter. You will never touch her ever again. Never."_

_Sara tucked her eyes under her arm as she heard the five shots ring through the house. She felt thick, warm liquid on her body and she smelled the gunpowder. Her mother knelt down beside her daughter and scooped her up in her arms. "Shh, baby. Daddy's gone now. He'll never hurt you ever again." Then she carried Sara into the living room and turned on the TV._

Sara felt the cold gun in her hands as she remembered her mother's words. Her mother had saved her from physical pain for the duration of her childhood, sure, but she could never have known the wounds that she created when she pulled that trigger. She had thought that she was her daughter's savior but Sara knew that it was this gun that had saved her from her pain. It was this gun that traveled with her for years in its little oak box and it was this gun that comforted her when she was frightened of the bogeyman. Now, it was this gun that was going to save her yet again.

Resting her finger on the trigger, Sara stood on shaky legs and turned to the door. She heard Russell checking her other gun for ammunition and was prepared when the shot rang out, sending the doorknob into pieces.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!" Russell's voice taunted as he pushed the door open. He sneered as he saw Sara standing before him. "Aw, are you going to fight me? That's so sweet." He raised the gun to point at her shoulder. "But you are not going to get very far." Before he could pull the trigger, Sara moved her gun from behind her back and pointed it at him.

"Don't shoot me, Russell," Sara's voice cracked and she could taste the dry blood in her mouth. "You won't be able to get out alive if you try."

Russell chuckled. "You won't shoot me, Sara. You don't have the guts."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? You know that that isn't true."

Russell shrugged and cocked the gun. "Shoot me then. I don't expect to get out alive anyway."

Sara looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"I busted out of jail, Sara. I killed a police officer. I don't expect to be living in peace anymore. I just wanted to hurt you again and when I am done, I am going to kill myself. I must admit that you helped me, though. I was debating whether or not to leave you alive or kill you but now it's clear. You won't be in as much pain if I don't kill you. So now I know exactly what I am going to do."

Sara looked into the eyes of the man who had raped her and a wave of hate almost knocked her over. "So that's what this is all about? Hurting me? Making me suffer as much as possible?"

Russell nodded. "Yeah. And, finding you the way I did today, I know just how to do that." Swiftly, he lowered his gun to Sara's side and fired. Sara had no time to react as pain clouded her vision. She keeled over and screamed in agony. Russell came over to her and she could see a length of rope in his hands. "Your bug man is going to be home soon. I want him to see you this way. And then you will watch him die because of you."

Sara stared at him in disbelief. Blood was seeping out of her side and making a warm pool on her shirt. "He has nothing to do with this. Don't hurt him."

Russell shook his head as he tightly wrapped the rope around her chest and wrists. "On the contrary, my dear. He has everything to do with this. You have no idea how many times I woke up to you saying his name or how many times I caught you eyeing him with want. You never wanted me. You only accepted me to punish him. I want your body for myself and always have. I wanted to kill him every time you said his name as I entered you. And now I will."

Sara gasped as the rope pressed into her side where her gun wound was. "You can't kill him. Please don't. I'll do anything, anything at all."

Russell glared at her as he finished tying her ankles. "No. That would ruin the whole point. Don't you see? I want you for myself. If you do that to save him then you will still have him on your mind. It will just be exactly the same. You'll call out his name when we make love and you'll look at those books that he's given you and think of him. It will always be him. But now I am going to take him from you. Don't worry. You'll live. I only grazed you with the bullet and I am going to call the hospital before I kill myself." He looked down at Sara and she was shocked to see his eyes full of sorrow. Before she could reply, however, Russell straightened and walked swiftly to the door where he yanked the screwdriver out. Then he picked a knife off of the counter and walked back to Sara.

"I am just doing this to help you, Sara." He said as he put his left hand on her cheek before running the knife down her face with right hand. Sara screamed as it slashed down her cheek. "Now no one will ever want you again," he whispered as he lifted the knife again to cut off her robe so she was naked except for the ropes that bound her. Gently, he lifted her and carried her out to the living room. Placing her tenderly down on the couch he laid a blanket over her body. He made a soothing sound as she cried. "Shh, baby. You won't get hurt again. Never again."

Sara closed her eyes to block out his face as he leaned in to kiss her on the lips. She wanted him to be gone. She was relieved when he pulled away but her heart stopped as she heard the doorknob turn slowly.

"Sara!" Grissom called as he stepped over the threshold and closed the door with a bag of groceries in one arm and a wrapped box in the other. His eyes rested on Sara's face and he cried out in shock. "Sara!" He ran over to her and knelt down next to her. "Oh, God what happened to you?"

Before Sara could warn him, a knife was already whistling through the air towards Grissom's chest. Grissom's eyes widened in shock as the knife connected with his back and Sara's scream pierced the silence.

**Chapter Three Part Three**

Grissom sagged on top of Sara as blood pooled around the knife. Sara screamed again in anger as she struggled against her bonds, causing the blanket to fall from her body. Grissom was struggling to regain his breath as Russell shoved him off of Sara.

"Hey, old man. How are you doing? The weather's nice, don't you think?" Russell yanked the knife out of Grissom's back and smiled as Grissom yelled in pain. "I was just talking to your friend here and decided how to make your day." He put the knife down on the end table and sneered at Sara and Grissom in turn. Slowly his fingers unzipped his pants. "You're a lonely man. Have you ever wanted to watch porn? I bet you have and I am sure that you actually have some in your place. Now is your lucky day though. You get to see some live."

Sara gasped as she struggled again at her bonds and Grissom stared in horror at Russell. His breath was labored and his eyes were glazed in pain. He was able to utter one word though as Russell dropped his pants. "No," he rasped and, as he did so, blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

Russell chuckled and looked down at Grissom. "No? And why not? You had your chance with her. This girl would have done anything for you and yet you only shrugged her off. When someone is here threatening your alpha-male scene, though, you get all protective. You know you're sending a mixed message, right?" He grinned as Grissom tried to sit up. He lifted his foot and shoved him down, drawing a moan from Grissom. "Now you are going to watch a real man take her."

Before Grissom could do anything, Russell had yanked off Sara's blanket and thrust himself inside her. Sara screamed as Russell moaned in pleasure. "Grissom!" she screamed as she tried to look at him from over the edge of the couch but Russell glared at her and slapped her hard across the face. She whimpered as he rode her and kept trying to look at Grissom. She didn't want him to get hurt and she knew that if she didn't warn him he would.

Grissom was struggling to sit up. Ignoring the grunts coming from the sweaty man on top of Sara his hand was searching the floor for something…anything. Then he saw the ivory handled pistol. Grunting, he tried to shift his body so he could reach under the couch to where Sara had dropped the gun. He knew it was the only way to save her. His mind was in disarray and he tried desperately to focus but it was so hard not to just let go. He could just close his eyes and let everything slip away just like he had learned to years ago. He could block out the pain and the agony and he could spare himself. But he couldn't block out Sara's pain that way. As looked swiftly toward her face, their eyes connected and she mouthed his name. That was all he needed. Biting his lip so hard that it bled, he stretched his arm and grasped the handle of the gun. As quickly as he could, he raised the gun and pointed the gun at Russell's head. Then he pulled the trigger.

Again and again he shot until Russell had fallen off of the couch in a pile of blood and skin. Sara screamed and Grissom collapsed in a boneless heap. It was over. He could close his eyes and sleep soon. All he had to do now was get Sara some help. He looked toward the front door where a small security device hung. All he had to do was set that thing off and people would come. He sighed and looked above him at Sara. She was silent and her eyes were closed but her chest rose and fell. In the distance he could hear sirens and they were growing louder. Closing his eyes, he drifted into a deep, dark sleep.

The End

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**Just so you know:I will be writing an epilogue soon. Just be patient and please review!**

**Lots of Love: Shigure**


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